I push some stray hair behind her ear. “I never want you to hide from me,” I say. “I see you, Olivia, and I want every part of you.”
Chapter fifty-five
Jay
March
Liv
I’m on my way x
Ire-readhertextfor maybe the tenth time, the tiny timestamp mocking me from an hour ago. She’s probably here by now, somewhere in the crowd, and still, I can’t stop checking my phone like it’ll make her appear.
It’s been an interesting few months—new city, new job, and more surprises than I could’ve predicted. Liv and I have managed a few trips together, and we’ve planned the summer out to perfection.
But today is the day it all begins for real.
The stadium feels alive in a way I’ve only ever dreamed of capturing. Drums thrum through the stands, the sea breeze rolling in over the turf, the Valkyries warming up beneath a sky streaked in blue. My first game photographing them. My first shot at proving I deserve to be here. Preseason has been tame, but this feels big. I’m on the side of history I want to be on, here with this team of incredible women.
I adjust my camera strap, pretending my hands aren’t shaking. My superior, Penn, is across the field. He gives me a thumbs up when a voice catches my attention…
“Hey, I’m looking for the Valkyries’ hotshot photographer. Have you seen him?”
I turn, and there she is. My girl.
Her hair’s tied up, her team lanyard swinging around her neck, that familiar sparkle lighting her eyes. The second I see her, the tension in my chest eases just a little.
“Depends who’s asking,” I say, fighting a grin. “You some kind of fangirl?”
She hums, pretending to think. “What if I am?”
“Then I’d tell you I can’t be distracted today, but I might just make an exception for you.” I tug her in by the waist.
“Are you nervous?” she asks, eyes flicking all over my face, trying to read me.
“Yeah,” I admit. “A little.”
She leans up onto her toes, whispering in my ear. “Would it help if you pictured me naked?”
“Baby,” I groan, dropping my forehead into the crook of her neck. “Don’t do that to me here.”
Her melodic laugh reaches me, and I deflate, tension evaporating just from being near her.
She glances toward the stands then, and a new kind of smile tugs at her mouth. “Speaking of distractions,” she says, nodding toward the middle section.
I follow her gaze and freeze.
Seb, Indie, Quinn, Miles, Hudson, Daphne, Finn, Foxx, and even Liv’s dad, who we see every time she visits here. All of them, clustered together, waving and holding up a huge hand-painted sign that readsSmile for the camera, Oliviera!
For a second, I can’t find words as I look at my group of friends.
Seb, Miles, and Hudson were my stumbling introduction into adulthood—the first real glimpse of what loyalty looks like outside of a family. Hudson, especially, has been in my corner since we were kids, long before any of us had a clue who we were going to become. They taught me what friendship looks like when it’s real, loud, loyal, and messy in the best ways. They let me fix things for them, too, even when they didn’t need fixing. Maybe that’s why I clung to them the way I did. Being useful was the one language I knew how to speak.
But Liv… she taught me something my friends never could. She taught me that I didn’t have to be the steady one all the time. That I didn’t have to earn my place by patching the cracks around everyone else. She taught me that the people who love you don’t come to you because you’re the fixer, or because they need something; they come because you’reyou. They stay because they love you.
And standing here, watching all of them gathered under that ridiculous sign, I know I’m not the glue holding anything together. I’m just part of the picture.
“You didn’t,” I manage.
